


We Meet Again

by JTHM_Michi



Series: Of Love and Fairness [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Magical Lydia Martin, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Stilinski Family Feels, mentions of m-preg but it's not obnoxious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:45:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JTHM_Michi/pseuds/JTHM_Michi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles was 17, the Sheriff kicked him out because the Alpha Pack was getting to be too dangerous for the newest additions to the Stilinski household. Now, eleven years later, Stiles is about to come face to face with his once kid step-sister and be forced to deal with this fact. Is it possible to forgive and forget?</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Meet Again

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to the Teen Wolf Kink meme then my Tumblr.

 

 

_“Get out.”_

_Stiles is cold, tired, and so stretched thin that he can’t even muster the hurt he knows he should feel from this. He can’t deal with this right now, not on top of everything else going on._

_“I just need to grab – “_

_“No, Stiles, I want you out of this house before Becca wakes up. Get out.” His father doesn’t even let him finish and Stiles…is done. He doesn’t have the time or the energy to do this, but he needs that fucking book on his desk and he is getting it. He turns and goes up the stairs, hearing his dad – no, the Sheriff telling him to leave, that he will arrest Stiles for trespassing if he has to and Stiles ignores him. Opens the door to his room, marches to his desk, grabs the thin book sitting on his desk, and for good measure snatches up his photo album. Luckily, he had already added Becca’s photo into it and turns to leave._

_“Get the fuck out of my house, right now.” The sheriff says gruffly, the voice he uses on criminals and Stiles doesn’t even say goodbye as he leaves the house. The door closes with a heavy thud behind him and Stiles can feel magic coursing through his veins, urgent and pounding. He’s lingered here too long; Lydia needs his help right now._

He wakes up abruptly, alert as if he was 17 again and in a war. The arm around his waist tightens, drawing him back into a warm chest.

“S’wrong?” Derek slurs from behind him and Stiles feels his heartbeat calm, the alertness leaving him as he remembers where he is, when he is. He’s not 17 anymore.

“Bad dream.” Stiles murmurs, turning a little to kiss Derek’s nose and check the time. 5:45 am. He’s got ten minutes until Elessar has to be up for school. He burrows a little more into his husband, stealing warmth and pressing his cold toes against Derek’s ankles. One of the many, many perks to being married to a werewolf was that they were warm – they never needed many blankets, even in the winter. Of course, there were other good things about being married to a werewolf, one of which was pressed against his lower back right at this moment and getting a bit of a rise out of him.

“What time?” Derek asked, hand trailing down into Stiles’ sleep pants. The man was thirty-five and still couldn’t string together sentences in the morning.

“Too late for this.” Stiles groaned out even as Derek’s fingers closed around his hardening cock. He pressed back against Derek, grinning at the growl that Derek let out. He turned his head, catching Derek’s lips, biting at them gently. Derek whined into his mouth – a sound that the other man would deny he ever made even under pain of death – and jerked Stiles once, a little too roughly, but Stiles wasn’t complaining.

A crash from down the hall caused them to freeze momentarily, Stiles going so far as to hold his breath, hoping…

A baby started to wail seconds later and Stiles sighed. Derek let go of Stiles all at once, rolling out of bed and stepping into a pair of discarded boxers on the ground easily, leaving the room while Stiles stretched and straightened out his pants, grumbling.

While Derek was attending to the baby, Stiles went in search of their oldest son and no doubt the source of the commotion. Elessar was in his bedroom, picking up books and toys from where they were scattered all over the floor, and hunched in on himself as if he expected a scolding.

“What happened?” Stiles asked, coming in and righting his son’s dresser – the source of the crash. Elessar passed him some books and continued to pick up his room.

“I was just trying to get my shoes, they were behind the dresser. I didn’t mean to push it so hard.” Elessar said softly, sounding contrite. “I didn’t mean to wake Cas.” He continued, looking up at Stiles guiltily.

“It’s okay, love. Next time, just wait for me to help you, ‘kay?” Stiles said, crouching down to talk to his oldest. Elessar nodded, toeing the brown carpet in his room. “Now, what say you to breakfast?” Stiles continued, bouncing up and grinning down at Elessar, who lite up at the word ‘breakfast’.

“Eggs and bacon and can we have pancakes and those muffins?” Elessar asked eagerly, rushing out of his room and towards the kitchen. Stiles laughed, following him out at a much more sedate pace.

“Those muffins are for you and your cousin Vicky; so no muffins for breakfast, but I can totally make my favorite boys eggs and bacon and pancakes.” Stiles said, coming into the kitchen and starting to gather all the things he’d need while Elessar got plates and cups for the table. “Don’t forget the silverware, hon.” Stiles reminded, ruffling Elessar’s hair briefly.

“Daaad!” Elessar whined, smoothing his hair out – which was a pointless endeavor as it hadn’t been brushed yet and therefore resembled a rat’s nest; of course Elessar had inherited Stiles’ mother’s wild hair – and gathering forks and napkins to place on the table as well. Derek came in then, holding their youngest son, who was no longer crying.

“And how’s my littlest man?” Stiles asked, cracking an egg into a skillet, turning to accept Derek’s brief kiss. Castiel – and screw everyone who laughed at Stiles when he said that’s what he wanted to name his second son, _Supernatural_ was the shit and Derek vetoed anything from the Whedon verses and comics, so he didn’t have much to choose from – gurgled and reached for Stiles, little fingers wiggling.

“I got this.” Derek said, depositing Castiel into Stiles’ arms and taking over cooking duty and Stiles eagerly accepted the role shift, kissing Derek on the cheek in thanks and going over to the kitchen table.

“I don’t see why I can’t have muffins for breakfast and then again for lunch – I only need to bring one for me and one for ‘Toria. You made tons.” Elessar grumbled, looking longingly at the muffins sitting on the counter. “And she likes to be called _Toria_ , Dad, not ‘Vicky’. She says she’s not a baby anymore and Vicky is a totally baby name.” Elessar continued, making faces at his brother, who clapped and did a half giggle snort thing that Stiles swears is the cutest thing in the world.

“Well, I can remember when Aunt Allison was pregnant with her, so she’s still a baby to me. Of course, if it bothers her that much, I suppose I can call her ‘Toria’.” Stiles said, moving to put Castiel into his feeding chair. “And, I made those muffins for the whole Pack, so there has to be enough for everyone.” Stiles continued.

“And if you continue to ask for them after Dad already said you can’t have some for breakfast, I’m giving your muffin to Uncle Jackson.” Derek said from the stove. Bacon was sizzling away and Stiles was near salivating.

“Yes, Daddy.” Elessar muttered, pouting. Stiles rolled his eyes, getting up to grab some baby food for Castiel. Stiles was probably the only one in the Pack who called Castiel by his full name, everyone else just called him Cas, but Stiles liked the whole thing. It fit better with Elessar he felt.

By the time he had managed to get three spoonful’s of food into Castiel, pancakes and bacon were set on the table next to milk jugs and the eggs. Derek dished everything out and Elessar was on his plate like a rabid dog – or, more appropriately, a rapid wolf. Derek wasn’t much better, but at least he closed his mouth when he chewed and didn’t look like he’d choke from inhaling too much food.

“Smaller bites, please.” Stiles said lightly, smiling when Elessar froze and swallowed before going back to his breakfast, obediently taking smaller bites and actually chewing his food this time around. Stiles turned back to Castiel, who seemed determined not to eat anymore of his breakfast. He turned his head away from the spoon each time Stiles brought it up to his mouth, mouth closed firmly.

“C’mon, baby, you only had two bites, each a little more for me, hmm?” Stiles coaxed, holding the spoon up to Castiel again, who opened his mouth a tiny fraction and leaned forward. Stiles hummed happily at Castiel, hoping that he could get Castiel all fed before he had to go shower and change. That would be nice.

“Are you lecturing this semester?” Derek asked eventually.

“Oh, yeah, Professor Laxly is still in “deep research” – which really means he just doesn’t want to teach Mythology 101 – so I’m taking over for him. They had to change the class schedules and everything, it was a mess. But at last this means I have enough hours of student teaching, so I can finish my degree finally.” Stiles says.

He managed to get halfway through the baby jar – which was a feat, considering he was also feeding himself and usually if he tried to feed both of them at the same time Castiel lost interest – before he had to go shower. Derek took over with little fuss, flashing his Alpha red eyes at Castiel, whose eyes sparkled amber before glowing blue in response. Stiles left to go shower before he turned into a pile of goo from overdose to werewolf cuteness.

He had no idea the shit-storm that this day was going to bring him.

* * *

If someone had told him in high school that he’d be studying to become a Mythology Professor as an adult he would have…well, actually, probably believed them. After all, by high school his life had become an episode of Supernatural with some Buffy thrown in so doing something related to that wouldn’t have shocked him at all. The being married to Derek Hale and having two kids? Yeah, that might have shocked him, but becoming a Professor? Not so much.

“Thanks again for doing this, Stiles; means a lot to me, you know how I get with my research and all. And, this will be good experience for you. I already have all the classes lined out for you, just follow my lesson plans. You don’t even have to make your own assignments or anything, just grade all the essays and give my lectures. “Professor Laxly said, smiling smarmily at him as Stiles unpacked at the desk he was going to be using for the semester. He counts himself lucky to have a pertinent room at least, none of that nonsense of having to rush about the huge campus. He had enough of that as a student here, thanks much.

“Of course, it’s no problem. Best go back to your research.” Stiles said when it was apparent that Laxly was waiting for a response of some kind. The man may have had tenure but he was annoying as all hell and didn’t know half as much as Stiles did about magic and the supernatural. Stiles could teach a masters course in Mythology if he wanted, just as long as he didn’t have to teach about Persian Mythology. (Not because he didn’t know any of it, but rather more that there was at least one creature that called itself a God in Persia that was still walking around and wasn’t all that fond of Stiles.)

He pulled up his first class roster and turned to write a few things on the whiteboard that he would need for the first lesson. As he was writing the last of the notes he’d need for today, people started to trickle in. It looked like this class was going to be made up primarily of females – most of them looked to be freshmen, as they still had the slightly lost and awed look about them. A few of them he recognized from other classes – Kara Wilkins for one and Jason Nicolson for another. Kara had been in one of the first classes he ever taught, a Philosophy in Eastern Mythology course and Jason worked at the University Daycare that Stiles and Derek sometimes had to use for Castiel. (They used it for a total of a week, when they first got Castiel and he still smelled too much like his old pack. Not that Stiles could tell, but Derek was moody and grouchy about it, said it would be easier to bond with Castiel when he smelled more neutral. Thus, human daycare at the University for a bit.)

The clock showed five minutes after seven, which meant the floor was his for an hour and a half.

“Hey, what’s up?” He greeted, waving jauntily. “As you may have noticed your schedules showed a mysterious change in Instructor for this course about a week or so ago, changing from Professor Laxly to Mr. Hale, which just in case you missed it is me. As you may have noticed, I’m not a Professor as I still need one more semester of teaching under my belt till this University gives me my Ph.D. So, welcome, you are my finish line. “He finished, grinning widely at his class, who either laughed or at least smiled at his joke.

All but one, a young girl in the middle of the front row, who was looking at him intensely – he dearly hoped she wasn’t going to get a crush on him, it made things so awkward. The semester before last when he was a student teacher there had been a most insistent boy – John or something – that went so far as making sure every one of his essays he turned in smelled of his cologne and had ‘grade me, Mr. Hale!’ written on the front with a heart. It would have been hilarious (and, since he wasn’t that much older than the freshmen – he was only 28 – flattering) if he hadn’t already been married and had children, that is.

So, yeah, he hoped this girl wasn’t getting a crush on him as he stood here because that? Would be awkward.

“So, I know we’re in college and all, but roll call is a thing I have to do for administration purposes for the first day, yada yada yada. Wednesday I’ll start passing around the roster and just initial by your name to show that you were here – I don’t care if you’re here or not, but if any of you are on scholarship or live here, the administration might care. So, yeah. You’re grown adults, welcome to the big leagues.” Stiles said and that little spiel got a lot more laughter.

He was calling out names and making notations when he got to the S’s. Rebecca Stilinski. His throat closed up at the sight of the name and he looked up sharply, eyes going to the girl in the middle of the front row.

She had short blonde hair, bangs hanging down and tipped black. Her eyes, which were locked on Stiles with such intensity he thought they were both seconds away from having a mild episode of some sort, were the same shade of green he remembered them being when she was a little girl. Her face hadn’t changed all that much, now that he knew it was her face he was looking at – the same thin lips and eyebrows, the same cheekbones. Her ears were just as lopsided as they had been when she was seven, the poor thing. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, just a light blush and lip gloss, and she had a barrette in her hair. She was wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans and he wondered if she still hated wearing shoes.

“Rebecca Stilinski.” He calls out, flawlessly of course for he still remembers how to pronounce that mouthful of a last name. The girl raises a hand, not saying a word, staring at him still. He forcibly turns back to the roster, clearing his throat, and moving on.

He’s a grown ass adult and he can deal with his once step-sister being in his class. Even if thinking about her and her name hurts and he feels like screaming and wishes for that numbness he had when he was 17. Fuck his life, but he should have seen this coming – why else would he have had that dream this morning?

The class goes quickly and smoothly, he doesn’t think about Rebecca or his father or anything but the class, and by the end of it he’s never been so happy for the blandness of first classes in his life. His students leave; a few of them shooting him grins or shy smiles as they leave, Kara bouncing out of the room with a “Looking forward to another semester together, Mr. Hale!”, Jason grinning at him, and soon it’s just him and Rebecca. She’s standing awkwardly, a messenger bag slung over one shoulder and a handbag clutched in her fingers.

“Hi.” She finally says. Her voice is deeper than he expected it to be, maybe because the last time he heard it she was a little girl still.

“Hi.” He says back and it sounds resigned and a little pained, even to him. She shifts in place, biting her lip, and her handbag hits her hip a few times in a practiced beat as her hand moves. His – Their – The Sheriff did that, picked it up from Stiles’ mother. Rebecca must have picked it up from him.

“Small world, huh?” Rebecca says finally, expression going from hesitant and awkward to steal and resolve.

“Yeah, small world.” Stiles says back, still on edge and a little more fragile then he feels comfortable with.

“I have class. Soon. But I…I’d like…maybe we could get coffee?” Rebecca stumbles through the offer, steal giving way to tentative hope.

“Yeah, we should…coffee.” Stiles responded shaking himself mentally to deal with this. “We should totally do coffee, catch up a little. I have classes until 2 pm, if you wanted to do it today?”

“Yeah, I’m out at 1:30 so that’s perfect. Uhm…There’s a Starbucks down the block?” Rebecca says but it sounds more like a question then a statement.

“The one next to the mural of the flowers, yeah?” Stiles says and it’s like a train wreck. This conversation is so, so not something he was prepared to deal with today.

“Yes, yes that one. It’s uhm…I have class, see you then.” She says in one breath, rushing out the door a second later. He near collapses against his desk once she leaves.

“Well, that was awkward as fuck.”

* * *

He thinks about texting Derek to tell him the news throughout the day. He even typed a few texts out and almost called his husband but in the end he decides against it. This isn’t an emergency, it’s his family. Kind of. Somewhat. Once.

He almost calls Scott, Isaac, and Lydia as well but decides against that as well. This is something he has to do by himself. On his own. Apart from his Pack.

He takes the longest route to the Starbucks and by the time he gets there, Rebecca is already there and sitting at a table near the back. He sits down across from her, not bothering to grab anything to drink. They sit in awkward silence for a few moments before he asks her what her major is. It’s English Literature – she likes to read and didn’t really know what else to study at college. He tells her about starting college with the intent to go into criminology but then he changed his major to History and finally Mythology. They talk about school, mostly.

She went to Beacon Hills High, like he did. She was actually on the Lacrosse team, just like he was too. (Of course, she actually played more than one game) Mr. Harris was still teaching Chemistry and he hated her just as much as he hated Stiles. He tells her about his first year of college, about how crazy it was and how stressful. He tells her most of it was because Allison and Scott got pregnant (and he says it like that, that it was Allison and Scott not just Allison because while it wasn’t exactly planned they were stupidly excited once they found out. And, of course, there were other reasons that year was stressful as all fuck but they weren’t really anything he was willing to tell her about). He tells her about how he discovered he likes to teach and that for a time (specifically, the time in-between criminology and History) he was thinking about becoming a preschool teacher.

By the end of it, things aren’t as awkward and they exchange phone numbers to set up another talk.

* * *

When he gets home that afternoon, he finds that his house has been invaded by his pack. He drops his keys on the hallway table, hollering out a greeting. Lydia and Erica pop their heads out of the living room, thanking him for the muffins. He grins at them and goes to put his stuff away and take off his shoes.

“Uncle Stiles, Uncle Stiles, come play with us!” Vicky – No, wait, Toria – Oh for heaven’s sake, he’ll just call her Victoria – yells from the playroom next to Elessar’s bedroom. He toes his shoes off, throws his backpack (Jackson keeps giving him really nice briefcases but Elessar decorated this backpack and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t use it till it unravels and dies) near the closet and goes in search of his son and niece.

The playroom is a mess of toys and toppled over chairs and blankets but it should be easy enough to clean up at the end of the day. Isaac and Boyd are sitting back to back on the floor, a jump rope tying them together, while Victoria holds a plastic sword in one hand and a hot pink plastic wand in the other.

“And what are we playing?” Stiles asks.

“King Werewolf! Ellie is the King and I’m his loyal witch!” Victoria explains happily, jumping in place. “Uncle Isaac and Boyd are Hunters who we have captured, they have taken the Lady Queen hostage! We have to rescue her before she gets lonely and doesn’t make us cookies!” She continues, swinging her wand at Isaac and Boyd, who look appropriately cowed under her presence.

“Oh, glorious witch, do not turn us into anything unnatural!” Isaac pleads, turning puppy dog eyes at Victoria.

“And where is our King?” Stiles asks, right before a pile of blankets explodes and his son leaps out of it, face wolfed out and a towel pinned to his shoulders. Stiles bites his lip to keep from cooing, because if grown werewolves look terrifying, cubs most certainly do not. Elessar doesn’t look all that changed wolfed out, just sharper teeth and longer canines with slightly bushier eyebrows. His claws are also significantly duller then a grown adult’s would be and could be mistaken for simply longer than usual fingernails.

Elessar roars, which sounds almost exactly like Simba trying to scare off Hyenas, and Victoria echoes him with a victory yell and they both tackle their captive hunters, who go down laughing and without protest. The jump rope unties from its knot and Isaac rolls away, taking Victoria tumbling, until he lands on his back with her perched on his chest.

“Tell us where the Lady Queen is and we shall spare you!” Elessar says from atop Boyd, who is still laughing rather loudly and cannot respond.

“We know not, Great King of the Werewolves!” Isaac says from under Victoria, who has regained her grip on her sword and is pressing it under his chin. Stiles spies a small cloth – probably a washcloth that was brought in by accident with the towel attached to Elessar – and scoops it up.

“They are lying, Great King.” Stiles says with a grin. “Loyal Witch, use this enchanted cloth to get the truth out of them.” Stiles hands Victoria the washcloth, who takes it with a look of utter disbelief. The second it leaves his hand, he snaps his fingers and the washcloth lights up, glowing neon purple. Victoria squeals in delight, waving it above her head and it rains blue sparkles down on her. Stiles laughs at her excitement, especially when Elessar leaps up from Boyd and crashes into his legs.

“Dad, I want an enchanted cloth too! I’m King!” He says, tugging at Stiles’ pants. Stiles laughs and taps Elessar’s shoulder and the towel attached there flares a brilliant yellow. Elessar yells in excitement and leaps back on Boyd, who grunts but otherwise doesn’t look too put out by the sudden assault.

“She’s in the land of tiles and fire, my glorious witch!” Isaac ‘confesses’ and Victoria gives a victory screech, rolling off of Isaac and grabbing Elessar’s hand.

“To our Lady Queen!” She shouts, dragging her King out the door, purple and yellow flaring behind them as they run towards the kitchen.

“Doesn’t that take a lot of willpower or magic or energy or something to do?” Isaac asks as he gets up, sounding concerned.

“Oh, that? No, not at all – it’s like cracking your knuckles or jaw, really. Not at all draining on me; it’s a parlor trick, but it makes them happy.” Stiles says easily, helping Boyd up and dusting him off. “Anyway, I suppose I have something to tell all of you after dinner, so spread the word.” He continues, tossing them a smile to assuage any fears that he has bad news.

And he goes off in search of his youngest baby, who is most likely either with Derek or Scott.

* * *

_He’s standing in line at Starbucks, a little hand clasped in his, when the hair on the back of his neck prickles in warning. He looks around, trying to seem like he’s just bored, and sees her – Kali. The Alpha is leaning against the light post outside, watching him; watching him and Becca._

_“Can I take your order?” The barista – a bored looking twenty something with buck teeth – asks and Stiles turns, looking away from Kali and orders a hot chocolate._

_“With peppermint and caramel!” Becca adds. She sounds so young and innocent and Stiles isn’t going to let anything happen to her – he refuses to let her be a casualty in this. Absolutely refuses. He pays and they go loiter around the condiments, waiting for Becca’s hot chocolate. He looks around, pulling Becca a little closer subconsciously, and doesn’t see Kali anywhere._

_“And who might this little one be?” Ethan asks, reaching down and tugging at the end of one of Becca’s pigtails. Stiles yanks the little girl away, glaring at Ethan and wishing Scott was here. Or Isaac._

_“Don’t touch her.” Stiles snarls and Becca clutches at the back of his shirt, picking up that something is wrong. Ethan tilts his body a little to keep Becca in his sights before he drags his eyes away from her and up Stiles’ body in a way that makes him feel in need of a bath._

_“Don’t be like that, Stiles.” Ethan purrs out his name and Stiles is reminded of Peter and hot breath on his wrist. Ethan’s eyes trail back down to Becca, who has pressed herself against him, hiding and shaking. “My brother is most…disappointed with you.” Ethan says, baring his teeth at Stiles in a mockery of a smile._

_“Goody for him.” Stiles snaps and he feels prickles of warmth in his fingertips. He can’t do a lot by himself, not after he drained himself almost dry the night before last, but he might be able to conjure enough of a charge to give himself some time to get Becca away if Ethan charges. He miscalculated how much electricity a werewolf – an Alpha – could handle. He channeled enough to kill a grizzly bear but all it did to Ethan’s twin brother Aiden was knock him out. And piss him off something terrible._

_He should have pulled a Lydia and mixed electricity with fire._

_“Oh, Stiles, must we do this? This would be so much easier for everyone involved if you just quit being so stubborn and worked with us. There’s no need for any unpleasantness between us…in fact, I’d like nothing more than for there to be a more pleasurable edge to our interactions.” Ethan says voice low and suggestive. Stiles feels his skin crawl and his stomach heave._

_“I’m sure you would.” Allison says from behind Ethan and Stiles almost weeps in relief. Ethan pivots and Allison is there, holding Becca’s hot chocolate in one hand and her cell phone in the other. “As entertaining as this conversation no doubt is, I have my father and my boyfriend on two different lines, each waiting for so much as a muffle that something is amiss so I’d leave if I were you.” She continues, smiling sweetly at Ethan and putting her phone to her ear. “No, daddy, everything is fine; you stay with your friends.” She says into the mouthpiece, not looking away from them._

_“Another time, perhaps.” Ethan says, looking back at Stiles one last time before he flees. Allison passes him the hot chocolate, tucking her phone into her pocket._

_“I’m following you home.” She says and Stiles nods sharply, pulling Becca out of the coffeehouse back to his jeep. The little girl is clinging to him and he realizes, as he picks her up and puts her in the backseat, that she is crying. He buckles her seatbelt, feeling his nose burn, and swallows down the feeling of panic that is starting to come up. They’re halfway home when she starts to wail, saying she wants her mommy and Stiles knows exactly how she feels._

Stiles sits down on the couch in the living room, Castiel wrapped in his arms, and waits for the pack to drift in. Scott and Allison are putting Elessar and Victoria in bed, no doubt trying to convince the two seven year olds that they had a perfectly good bed to share and did not need to sleep in the blanket fort. Lydia and Jackson are the first to follow him in, Jackson reading something on his tablet. Lydia plops down right next to him and a faint smell of cinnamon and jasmine flares up with a snap of near inaudible thunder. His magic purrs under his skin, joyous from having Lydia so near.

Is it any wonder that he spent a great deal of his adolescence in love with this girl?

“Is the baby asleep?” Erica asks as she comes in, Boyd and Isaac with her.

“Just about.” Stiles says and isn’t surprised when she comes over and plucks his son right out of his arms and goes to sit on the loveseat, tucking Castiel up against her chest. Castiel whines and Erica coos at him, flashing amber eyes at him and he settles. She brings her legs up, curling around his son. Isaac flops down at Stiles’ feet, leaning against his leg while Boyd fills in the rest of the space on the loveseat next to Erica.

Scott, Allison, and Derek finally come in, Derek sliding the door to the living room closed behind him. Jackson puts his tablet away as Derek sits down next to Stiles, Isaac moving a little to let him sit down. A hush of anticipation settles in the room and Stiles takes a deep breath and decides to just be blunt about it.

“One of my students in Mythology 101 is Rebecca Stilinski.” He says quietly. The reactions are instantaneous: Derek takes his hand and Lydia leans her head onto his shoulder. Isaac growls and Allison and Scott trade Meaningful Looks, while Boyd and Jackson hum quietly.

“Does she know who you are?” Erica asks quietly a few moments later.

“Yeah, we had coffee.” Stiles says. They all fall silent again and Stiles relaxes into his husband and Lydia. He’s tired and doesn’t want to deal with any of this.

“Look, it’s not like I think we have to do anything or that she’s a threat. I just…thought you all should know.” Stile says.

“We’ll hold judgment over whether she’s a threat or not till later – if she distresses you, that’s enough of a threat in my book.” Lydia says at last.

”I figured as much.” Stiles says, getting up and going to Erica to take Castiel from her. “Well, I’m off to bed; don’t stay up to late, yada yada.” Stiles says as he leaves the room, intent on putting Castiel in his bed and then sleeping.

And to think his day started out so good.

* * *

The semester goes on and Rebecca and Stiles have a standing lunch date – on Wednesdays they go to a small soup house near the University and have lunch and talk. Sometimes they talk about Rebecca’s classes, how she’s adjusting to college, how she’s homesick sometimes. Other times they talk about the latest thing either of them read or about television shows or movies. Sometimes, Stiles could fool himself into thinking that they really are just step siblings that haven’t seen each other in a long time, reconnecting.

“Man, I’m so glad that semester is almost over, I miss Sasha something fierce.” Rebecca says, slurping the last of her soup up.

“Sasha?” Stiles asks, not sure if she’s talking about a friend back home or a pet. Rebecca goes tense and Stiles thinks that she isn’t talking about either.

“Yeah, Sasha, my baby sister. She’s nine.” Rebecca says quietly, looking down at the table. Stiles opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, so he closes it again and does some mental math. He’s twenty-eight now, he was twenty-one when Elessar was born…and if Rebecca’s sister is nine then that means he would have been nineteen when she was born.

He was nineteen the first time he tried to reconnect with his father. Guess he knows why that attempt failed.

“You didn’t know.” Rebecca says quietly, not asking. Stiles closes his eyes, feeling rage and bitter inadequacy coming up inside him and tries to stem it down.

“No.” He finally chokes out and an awkward silence settles over them. They’re back to the beginning of their awkward interactions and Stiles wants nothing more than to scream at the utter unfairness of it all. They finish their meal in silence, pay in silence, and part. Rebecca looks like she wants to say something a few times, but never gets past swinging her hand into her hip a few times. She reminds him so much of his father that he physically aches from it.

_Derek is hovering nearby, twitching like he wants to rip the phone from his hand and toss it away. Stiles doesn’t hold that against him but he thinks, he thinks it’s time for this – to forgive and forget. Isaac is in the other room, recovering from the ogre that attacked them. Allison and Scott are out trying to find Boyd’s arm. (A werewolf can regrow a limb no problem, but it’s easier to reattach one then grow a completely new one.) He feels Lydia, a spark of barely controlled rage and fire, and knows that she and Jackson are dealing with the other two ogres in the area. Erica is with Isaac, curled around her pack mate, physically holding his guts in until his body can stitch itself back together._

_And Stiles just wants his dad. He doesn’t want to think of seeing Derek and Erica bringing Isaac to him, of the sound he made when he saw Isaac, the panic and fear that he might not recover this time. He doesn’t want to remember pushing magic into Isaac’s heart, forcing it to beat faster, to jump start his healing. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that his shirt is still covered in blood. He just wants his dad._

_“Hello, John Stilinski here.” His father’s gruff voice sounds from down the line and he feels himself relax. He sounds exactly like Stiles remembers and he could weep from it._

_“Dad?” He calls out softly, afraid that he’ll be rejected. “It’s Stiles.” He tacks on needlessly. His father takes a sharp breath._

_“Hi.” His father hasn’t sounded so awkward since the time he tried to give Stiles The Talk when he was twelve. Stiles fidgets looking up at Derek. He looks half angry and half devastated and Stiles knows, just knows, that he’s blaming himself for this; that he thinks he took Stiles’ dad from him._

_But this isn’t Derek’s fault, this is Stiles’._

_“How’ve you been?” His father asks finally, as if he’s talking to one of his friends from the academy and not his son. He thinks about Isaac’s blood on his shirt, about how last week he and Lydia went too far with a spell and it backlashed on them hard enough to break bones and split skin. He thinks about graduating high school with his Pack and seeing Derek in the bleachers, about Melissa McCall pinching his cheek and saying she was proud of him._

_“Good, I’ve been good.” He says, looking at Derek as he says it, because he wants Derek to believe him in this; for every horrifying memory there are wonderful ones._

_“I heard you moved into the Hale house.” His father says. Stiles looks away from Derek, taking in the room he’s claimed for his own here. The Hale house didn’t look like it once did, before the fire; it wasn’t as grand and sweeping. More windows and less walls and it was painted different colors. His room here is just as big as the one he had with the Sheriff but somehow it always seems to have more light in it. The queen bed has soft sheets and a comforter for winter and his desk was built into the far wall. There’s a dresser and a bookshelf that is stacked with books on various lore and supernatural things, right next to his battered copies of the Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter._

_“Yeah, I did.” He finally says._

_“Of course you did.” His father says grimly. “You know I don’t approve.” He continues._

_“There’s nothing – we weren’t – Whatever you think was going on between us, it wasn’t like that.” Stiles protests because he has a good idea of the things his father must think of them and all of them are incorrect._

_“I don’t care, Stiles. What I care about is that whatever he got you messed up in, that you put that in front of your family. I can’t have that around my girls, Stiles, it’s too dangerous. I won’t have you endangering my family.” He says firmly and Stiles is so angry and hurt that he just starts talking, no filter._

_“I’m too dangerous to your family, huh? Wow, nice to know that I’m not considered part of that noble and glorious title – guess I’m just the leftovers from the old goods, huh? I didn’t put anything in front of you and Clara, I did everything I did for you, I put you first so many times and this is the thanks I get? You put complete strangers in front of your family, you raging hypocrite.” Stiles is yelling by the end of it, hot tears running down his face and he has so much more to say, so much more to rage about._

_But there is just a dial tone in his ear._

When he gets home that night, his husband takes one look at him and knows something is wrong. Stiles shakes his head sharply, the warning loud and clear: not now, not in front of the kids. Elessar is on him seconds later, chattering away about his day and school and the new things he learned and the mischief he and Victoria got up to. Stiles smiles at him, listening attentively and interjecting at times.

Castiel is sitting contently in Derek’s arms, looking at everything he can lay his eyes on and Stiles makes dinner with the background noise of his eldest son talking. He can pretend that everything is okay for a few more hours.

* * *

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Derek asks later, when they’re in bed; Stiles grading a few last minute papers while Derek reads over Isaac’s latest book. (Scott and Allison are both well aware that they are the inspiration for Isaac’s lead characters in his first series, a romance adventure about a werewolf and a hunter’s daughter set in a world where werewolves are second-class citizens and Hunters rule. It’s not a very subtle metaphor for their time in Beacon Hills.)

“Rebecca has a little sister.” Stiles says not taking his attention from his grading. Whoever this essay belongs to, they obviously did not read more than a Wikipedia entry about the myth he assigned them. He hears Derek place a bookmark in his book and set it on the bedside table.

“Stiles.”

“No, I’m not… _No_.” Stiles says firmly, writing a few more comments on this essay before he flips back to the first page and slaps a grade on it – a solid C. Sometimes he thinks he’s too lenient with his grading. Derek takes pen and the remaining two essays from him, putting them on top of Isaac’s book.

“Talk to me, please. Don’t do this to yourself, Stiles, it’s not fair to either one of us.” Derek says quietly and Stiles just deflates. God, they’ve come so far from what they once were, what Derek once was.

“Her name’s Sasha and she’s nine years old.” Stiles whispers and Derek growls softly, no doubt having done the mental math just like Stiles himself had. He pulls Stiles into his arms and Stiles wants nothing more than to hide his face in his husband’s neck and never think about the Sheriff ever again. He clings to Derek in a way he hasn’t needed to since he was a teenager and the Alpha Pack was circling and he hates John Stilinksi suddenly for reducing him to this again, for still having the ability to hurt him.

“You know, the last time I talked to him was when I was pregnant with Elessar?” Stiles says after some time, when he feels he can talk without screaming wordlessly into his husband’s neck and he feels Derek tense up from the reminder of the sheer hell that was Stiles’ pregnancy. None of it had been natural, obviously since he was a male thank you very much and no matter what some myths said, werewolves couldn’t get male mates pregnant.

But magic could. And magic did and it was not a fun time for anyone, least of all Stiles.

“You didn’t tell me.” Derek says and Stiles closes his eyes because he didn’t realize that he never got around to telling Derek that. It wasn’t like he had kept it a secret on purpose.

They had just moved into this house and it was much smaller than the Hale house but it was much more them. It was perfect for them and it was cheap on account that the previous owners had killed themselves in it. Along with the owners before them, and the ones before them. The house had been haunted, which was actually what attracted them to Oakdale in the first place. Lydia had dealt with it in a few seconds, purifying the place with a few words and a slam of magic. Stiles hadn’t even been needed, which everyone was thankful for because Stiles’ magic has been unstable for months. They thought it was because of something left over from the coven that drove them out of Beacon Hills (of course, it wasn’t entirely accurate to say that the coven drove them out. Lydia and Jackson had already left for Massachusetts– Lydia had been accepted into MIT and Jackson was going with her, of course. Stiles, Scott, and Allison had been accepted into a little University in Oakdale and Isaac had already gotten his first book published so it didn’t matter where he lived. Erica and Boyd weren’t going to college and just didn’t want to be separated from their Alpha. And Derek was ready to leave Beacon Hills, was ready to finally bury his family and leave them there. He sold the Hale house and the lands, after cleaning everything out of it and collapsing the tunnels under the property. It was almost…cathartic.) The coven of witches that moved into Beacon Hills attacked them for no real reason, it had something to do with Deaton but the man hightailed it out of their before they could piece together what was going on and by the end of it, two witches had been killed but not before one of them got a lucky shot off at Stiles. He didn’t catch what the spell was; to this day he has no idea what the spell was supposed to be but it had been strong enough to not be broken by the casters death.

Three months later, they had moved to Oakdale California and gotten settled in. They called Lydia in to help clean two haunted houses because Stiles couldn’t (and, if they were honest, they also called to let her and Jackson know they were still pack, that they would always have a home with them) and that was that. Allison and Scott got pregnant quite by accident (which will never not be funny, because seriously guys?) and Stiles got sicker and sicker. They didn’t know what was wrong; his magic was acting up at the most random of times and he was always tired. And when he wasn’t tired he was sick and aching in odd places and just miserable. He would gain weight and then lose it all – in two weeks he gained one hundred pounds only to lose it all the next week. It was alarming.

And he hid most of it from everyone. Allison was newly pregnant so everyone was hovering over her and being anxious and clingy and Stiles encouraged it because it meant that people weren’t looking at him. It worked until he fainted at the house one day, magic flaring up and utterly destroying the living room. He’s so thankful that Allison wasn’t there because who knows what could have happened to her? They couldn’t risk taking him to the local hospital – what if his magic flared there? So, they called Deaton, hoping that his phone number was still the same. It was and a plane ride later they knew what was wrong with him – he was pregnant.

And it was killing him. His body didn’t know how to support it properly and the womb was artificially made and put inside him – his body was alternately attacking it and trying to sustain it. He didn’t like to think about that dark time, it was hard on everyone.

But he had called his dad, one last time, shortly after learning what was going on with him.

_‘I don’t know. All I know is that your body is both trying to accept and reject the fetus inside you. Stiles…you could die. I’m not even sure of how to get it out of you; your magic is feeding whatever did this to you and working to protect it. That’s why it’s been out of sorts.’_

_Deaton’s words rang in his head and he could hear Derek and Scott in the other room, talking quietly. Allison and Isaac are here with him, Allison already showing and they’re both holding him. He can feel her baby bump and wonders why he doesn’t have one yet – he’s farther along then she is, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he have one?_

_“Guys, can you two…go make sure Scott and Derek aren’t killing each other?” Stiles asks, more to get them to leave him alone than anything else._

_“It’d be louder if they were.” Allison jokes, trying to lighten the mood. Stiles smiles at her, but it feels strained. “Why don’t you go lay down and we’ll go see what they’re talking about, okay? I’m sure a nap seems like a good idea.” Allison continues moments later, brushing a hand down Stiles’ face. A nap does sound good – he’s tired again, always tired these days and now that he knows why that is he feels more scared about it than ever._

_But what he really wants is his mom. But he can’t have her, so he wants the next best thing – his dad. He gets up from the couch they’ve been sitting on, pretending not to see how Isaac hovers as if to help him up, just like he does with Allison, and heads into his and Derek’s bedroom. He wants to sleep, so badly, but he also really, really wants his dad._

_The phone is in his hand with the number dialed before he really knows what he’s done. It’s been a little over a year since he last tried to re-connect to his father but a year…well, a lot happens in a year, right? So much has changed for him – he lives in a different town now, is attending a University, things are different. They have to be._

_“Hello, Clara Stilinski here, can I help you?” Clara’s cheery voice sounds from down the line and Stiles feels like he’s been slapped. Clara Stilinski? When did that happen? They got married, Jesus had they been married when Stiles had called last?_

_“C-Clara? It’s, uhm, it’s Stiles. Is my dad there?” Stiles asks, stumbling over his words and his face feels hot._

_“Stiles? Oh, uh, yeah he’s…let me get him.” Clara says, sounding just as awkward as he did. He can hear her muffled voice calling for his father._

_“Hello?” His father’s voice makes him collapse on the bed, he’s just so happy to hear it._

_“Dad?” He chokes out._

_“Oh, Stiles.” His father sounds…something. He’s not sure what that tone is, but it sounds happy enough. “I heard Hale sold his house and moved.” His father continues and Stiles realizes that his father sounded relieved to hear his voice._

_“What? Yeah, we moved to Oakdale; Allison, Scott, and I are going to school here.” Stiles says._

_“You’re with Scott and Allison still?” His father sounds almost bemused._

_“Yeah, of course. You know me and Scott.” Stiles says and he wonders if this is okay. If they can just pick up where they left off, if things can go back to being the way they were before._

_“And you’re…you’re at Oakdale? What for?” His father asks and Stiles almost asks what he means before he realizes that his dad wants to know his major._

_“Oh, I’m here for a criminology degree. Scott’s gonna be a vet tech and Allison is getting a business degree.” He says._

_“Good, that’s…that’s good.” His father says gruffly and Stiles thinks of something to say because he doesn’t want this conversation to be over._

_“Yeah, Derek was a little shocked that I wasn’t going to try for a police academy but I think I wanted to be more of a detective than a cop. Just seemed more my thing.” He says, aware that he’s rambling but he’s so desperate for this conversation, desperate to hear his father’s voice. His hand settles on his stomach and he tries to think about anything other than what his body is currently undergoing._

_“Hale? He’s still with you, he moved with you?” His father says sharply and Stiles flinches._

_“Yes, I said we moved.” He says quietly._

_“Oh, God, I thought…I thought things were different. I thought you grew out of this, thought you had changed.” His father says and he sounds so disappointed. Under his hand, there is the distinct feeling of something inside him moving. Nothing big, just…a tumble, almost. It shocks him enough that he gasps aloud._

_“Dad, I have changed, things are different, but…he’s not a bad person. I just wish you’d believe me when I said that, he’s not a bad person. He’s not.” Stiles says and he can feel tears coming up. “I don’t want to fight with you, I just want – ” He’s cut off by his father’s angry retort._

_“You just want, of course, it’s all about what you want isn’t it Aelfwine? Always about you, you, you. Well, I’m not going to have it, not anymore. You’re twenty years old now and if you still insist on being with that man and being involved in whatever it is that he’s messed up in, then fine. But actions have consequences and you’ve made your bed, now you have to lie in it. I don’t want you to call here again, do you understand? I’ll get a restraining order if I have to.” His father says harshly and Stiles has never heard anyone spit his birth name out with that much disgust before._

_“Dad, dad please, I just…I don’t want this to be the last time I talk to you, please don’t do this. I…There’s something you need to know, I was trying to figure out how to explain it so many times when I was with you but I never could and I just –“_

_“I’m hanging up and I don’t want you to ever call this number again. I’ll get a restraining order if I have to, I’m serious.” His father sounds, voice cold and composed. Stiles cries and listens to the click and then steady drone of a dial tone and under his hand there is movement, so faint he doubts anyone but him can feel it._

_He’s going to die giving birth to something and his father won’t even care. Hell, he probably won’t even know._

“It wasn’t like I was hiding it, it just…didn’t end well.” Stiles finally says and Derek growls lowly, but not at him. It’s the growl that means he’s angry at a situation and feels helpless, Stiles recognizes it after so many years of being with him. “But he had a daughter with that woman, he married her and he didn’t even…I wasn’t told any of that. I tried so hard to reconnect with him, I reached out twice and both times he shot me down and he…God, I’m twenty-eight, I have two children, and a husband that loves me and friends that might as well be my family and I still let this man have so much power over me? How pathetic am I?” Stiles asks, feeling rage well up inside him.

“You’re not pathetic. He’s your father, just because you’re older doesn’t mean that you can’t still want his love and approval. That you can’t still want him in your life.” Derek says, petting his hair.

“I want to hate him.” Stiles whispers, closing his eyes and pressing himself closer.

“I know.”

* * *

“Here, this is Sasha.” Rebecca says after their next class, holding out her phone. Stiles takes it from her gently, looking at the screen. The little girl is holding a dog that’s almost as big as she is – looks like a lab – and she has long brown hair and blue-green eyes. The same eyes that his father has and she has Stiles’ smile. She’s very obviously his half-sister and Stiles wishes he knew her. Wishes that he was allowed to know her.

“Thank you.” He says quietly, handing her phone back. Rebecca smiles at him tentatively and heads towards the door.

“Wait, I wanted…You don’t have to, but my husband is making dinner tonight – it’s pasta chicken and it’s to die for – and I thought you might want to meet my kids? I have two – a seven year old and an eight month old – and you totally don’t have to. Oh god why am I asking you this, this is awkward and borderline creepy.” Stiles says, near panicking by the end of his invitation.

“No, No! I want to! That sounds…I mean, if you really don’t mind I’d like that. A lot.” Rebecca is quick to jump in and reassure him.

“Oh, that’s good, yes, that’s good. I can text you my address if that’s okay?” Stiles continues awkwardly.

“I don’t have a car…Maybe you can pick me up? Would that be too weird?” Rebecca asks, ringing her fingers.

“No, it should be fine. It’s…It’ll be fine. We usually have dinner around five so I’ll come pick you up at four-thirty, if that’s okay?” Stiles asks, playing with a pen because this conversation is painfully awkward. Why are so many of their conversations so unsettling?

“Yeah, it’s. Yeah, it should be fine, I’ll be ready. I live in Theta Main, so I’ll be ready for dinner at four-thirty.” She says, smiling brightly at him and near skips out of the room.

This will be good.

* * *

“Oh, god, why did I agree to this? It’s going to be a disaster, a complete disaster, can I cancel?” Stiles panics later, when four o’clock comes around and Derek ignores him, checking on the chicken.

“Dad, who’s coming over? Do I know them? Why are they having dinner here?” Elessar fires off a barrage of questions at him and oddly enough it actually helps calm him down a little.

“Okay, I can do this, I can totally do this.” He mutters to himself, straightening his hair. “And a friend of mine is coming to dinner, Elessar. She’s a student of mine and she doesn’t know about werewolves, so you and Castiel have to be really good okay?” Stiles asks, crouching down to talk to Elessar, who nods seriously.

“Cas and I will be good.” Elessar says before rushing out of the kitchen to go into the living room.

“Everything is going to be fine, calm down.” Derek finally says. “Now, go get her so we don’t miss dinner.” He continues and Stiles nods, retreating towards the living room and, more importantly, the front door.

“Okay, I’m going to go get her – remember, her name is Rebecca and you’re to be on your best behavior young man.” Stiles says to Elessar mock sternly, ruffling his son’s hair. Elessar whines and Castiel makes a happy noise from his pile of blankets and light up toys.

“And I’ll leave once your car pulls up, promise.” Boyd says and Stiles nods, but only half believes him. Even since he called Derek to tell him that he invited Rebecca over, the whole pack has been over here “just to check on things”. Allison and Scott brought Victoria and Elessar home today and literally ever since he’s had pack mates near tripping over themselves to help out – Lydia even went so far as ordering Isaac and Jackson to clean up the living room for him. He knew they were trying to help, but it was nerve wrecking.

Traffic at this time of day in Oakdale is always hit or miss – sometimes it takes half an hour for him to get to the University and others it takes a little under ten minutes. Today it seems luck is in his favor because traffic seems to be just getting bad so it takes about twenty to get there. Theta Main is the biggest dormitory on campus and the cheapest, and it’s in the dead back of the campus surrounded by trees and open skies.

Rebecca is sitting on some picnic tables scattered around the back entrance when Stiles pulls up and she surges up with a huge smile lighting her face up when she sees him. It’s almost like he’s seventeen again and a little seven year old is looking at him like he’s the coolest thing she’s ever seen. She yanks the passenger door to his jeep open – not the one he had in Beacon Hills, this one is newer and safer and looks more like a small SUV then a jeep – and crawls in, looking so eager that Stiles knows this is going to be a good dinner.

They chat about the rest of her day on the way home – apparently, some idiots decided playing baseball in a crowded dorm was a great idea and now there were a few broken windows and the RA’s were breathing down everyone’s necks. And by the end of that conversation, Stiles was pulling into his driveway.

“I didn’t need to bring, like, a gift or anything did I?” Rebecca asks suddenly, nervous. Stiles laughs.

“No, just your appetite.” He says, turning the car off.

Stiles opens the door without fumbling and welcomes Rebecca into his home. She smiles and hangs her purse on the coat hanger nearby and then Elessar is running towards them, smile on his face.

“HI! I’m Elessar, who are you?” He says all at once, coming to an abrupt stop in front of them.

“This is my oldest boy. Elessar, this is Rebecca.” He says simply, not wanting to even attempt to explain their relationship. Rebecca smiles down at his son, saying hello, and lets him tow her towards the kitchen by the hand.

Derek introduces himself and Castiel, who reaches for Rebecca’s bangs, and they all settle in for dinner. Elessar talks for a long time about his day and all the things he and Victoria did and Rebecca listens with the kind of exaggerated enthusiasm that comes from having a kid sibling. Derek feeds Castiel and keeps a watchful eye over everyone.

And dinner is a wonderful event, full of talking and laughter and good food. Rebecca takes a few pictures on her phone and Stiles cannot help but think that he’s deluding himself or caught up in a lie.

* * *

“It’s not fair.” Rebecca says quietly, hunched near the passenger side window, when he’s driving her home after dinner. He doesn’t have to ask her to clarify; he knows exactly what she means.

“Life often isn’t.” He says back, just as quietly.

“He doesn’t even…You’re nothing like I was told.” She says flatly and Stiles doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to know what she was told about him. They’re quiet until he pulls into the dorm parking lot.

“I only half remember what happened, that night.” Rebecca says, not getting out of the car and just staring out her window. “What I know is that we got hurt. You tried to protect me, I remember that. I broke my leg and you…I don’t know what happened to you, but when people came for us, you weren’t conscious. We were in the hospital for a few days and I remember Dad was mad and Mom was worried. That’s what I remember.” She turns to look and him and Stiles knows this is the moment that is going to break their future interactions – she’s going to ask him what happened that night and Stiles is going to have to either lie to her or flat out refuse to tell her.

“Mom and Dad told me what happened. They always said that it was because of the people you were messed up with – that you made bad decisions and the consequences of those decisions backfired on us. Dad didn’t know if it was drugs or gangs or something else, but I think he thought it was gangs. And I accepted that as truth, for years. I woke up one day and you weren’t there anymore. You were the bad guy and I accepted that.” She continued and Stiles looked at her, really looked at her, and realized she wasn’t about to ask him what happened that night. She looked stern and serious, her expression so much like the one he saw on her mother’s face, years ago, when they were in the hospital.

“You know, I had a boyfriend in high school. We weren’t anything serious, not really, we just messed around. But in my junior year my period was late and I freaked out, thought I was pregnant. And I thought about you, for the first time in years. I was seventeen, just like you were, and I thought I was pregnant and I thought that if mom and dad found out…I thought they’d kick me out too. After all, dad kicked you out and you were his actual kid, what chance did I stand? I was a stupid kid that made a stupid mistake and I thought they’d make me pay for it the same way they made you pay for yours.

“And I realized that I didn’t know anything about what happened that night, not really. I didn’t know what you had done or not done or if you were a bad person or just…a stupid kid.” She continues and she sounds angrier than he’s ever heard her sound before.

“I don’t know what happened that night and I think I deserve to know the truth. I deserve to know what you did that was so bad that dad kicked you out, but wasn’t bad enough that you managed to get a wonderful husband and have two kids. A husband that I’m pretty sure is the same guy that dad always said was bad news, that dad blamed for getting you into whatever it was that you were into back then. I deserve to know that. ” She says fiercely, fire in her voice and determination across her face.

Stiles sits and takes her words in and realizes that he can’t give her an answer.

“I’m not…Rebecca, your dad loves you, his actions regarding me have no impact on that fact. You don’t have to worry that he’s going to cut you out of his life for a mistake you make, even if it’s a big one. And I want to tell you the truth, I do, but it’s so much more complicated than simply wanting to tell you. And I don’t think you really want to know about that night, not really, you just want to know why he kicked me out, what it was that I did that made him do something so extreme. And I can’t tell you that, because I don’t know.” Stiles says and he’s about to continue when Rebecca near explodes next to him.

“I know why he kicked you out! You messed up! You messed up so badly that he didn’t have a choice but then he never forgave you! I don’t get it, what could you have done that was so bad that he didn’t call and tell you that he got married? That he and mom had another kid together! What was so bad that I didn’t know that you were married, that you became a teacher, that you had two kids? You’re happy Stiles, you’re happy! What could have been so bad that he never forgave you?” Rebecca shouts at him, tears rolling down her face and waving her arms about. “You were his son! You were seventeen, just a kid, and you made a mistake and he never forgave you for it – what if I make a mistake, Stiles, what if I make a mistake? Will he cut me out of his life and mom and Sasha’s life and never know or care if I’m happy?” She’s yelling and crying by the end of it and Stiles reaches across and wraps his arms around her. She leans into his shoulder, smearing her tears across his shirt and he rubs her back like he would for one of his sons.

“Of course he won’t, don’t be silly. There’s nothing you could do that would make him do that, he loves you too much.” He says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He thinks about his father’s voice from down the line saying ‘his girls’ and knows it’s true.

“Then why didn’t he love you that much?” She chokes out and Stiles stops rubbing her back momentarily as pain sears through him at her words. He swallows it down and resumes his actions, not bothering to say anything.

It’s a question he’s been asking himself for almost a decade now and he still doesn’t have an answer.

* * *

When he gets home, Elessar and Castiel are already in bed and Derek is waiting for him in the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” He asks and Stiles sits down heavily and really thinks about his answer.

“No, I’m not. I thought I could handle this, you know? Like, I’ve done so much in my life and this is what bothers me? Really? I had a child – a child that almost killed me. I’ve negotiated border lines with rival packs and dealt with rogue hunters. I’ve dealt with a cornucopia of supernatural creatures and beings and the thing that makes me tired and hurts me is reconnecting with my kid step-sister? What the hell.” Stiles says incredulously. He’s a little angry with himself for being so fragile and over something so small.

“It’s not about Rebecca, not really.” Derek says and Stiles knows he’s right. Rebecca is just a way for that wound to be peeled open, for it to start bleeding sluggishly again.

“I know.” Stiles says quietly and Derek reaches across the table for his hand, holds it gently and Stiles smiles at the action. “I love you, you know that, right? It’s not…I don’t blame any of this on you, I never did. None of it was ever your fault.” Stiles says, clutching his husband’s hand. Derek sighs, but doesn’t bother saying anything, just lifts Stiles’ hand to place a kiss against his knuckles.

* * *

The next day, it snows. He gives two finals and accepts what feels like a thousand pages of final essays (but really it’s only about 500 or so, he’ll be able to get them all graded before grades are due, no problem. One of the perks of having a huge family – literally any one of his pack members is more than willing to have a day with his sons) and then it’s Rebecca’s last class of the semester and Stiles is half glad of it and half sad.

He’ll miss having her in his class even if she coming here brought some pretty impressive stress into his life.

“As soon as I have your finals, you can leave if you wish. I’ll be here the whole period so if you want to stay here and wait for your next class somewhere warm and with an internet connection, that’s fine too.” He says and isn’t surprised when almost all of his students leave after piling their final essays on his desk, some saying goodbye and waving. Kara drops a truly beautiful looking essay – it’s in a purple plastic sleeve and he can see the cover page has a picture of Bastet on it – and gives him a hug before bouncing out the door. Jason hovers at his desk, asking after Castiel and Elessar for a few moments and politely allowing Stiles to gush about them before shaking his hand and leaving as well.

And Rebecca places her essay down last then flops into a chair, smiling tentatively at him. Stiles puts his essays into a manila envelope and puts the whole thing into his bag.

“This is my last class – the two I have after this I already took my finals for, so I’m going home today.” Rebecca says. “Mom and Dad are coming to pick me up – I’m the first of my roommates to go home, Alex is going back tomorrow and I think Casey is going back tomorrow night. They’re bringing Sasha, since I haven’t seen her in so long.” She continues.

“That’ll be good. She’s probably missed you too.” Stiles says and he feels the hair on his arms stand up. He looks at Rebecca cautiously.

“I talked to Dad last night and I told him you were one of my teachers here.” She says guiltily and Stiles sighs heavily. “Sorry. He wanted to know why I was bringing you up after so long. I didn’t tell him much, just that you taught here. Honest.” She says earnestly, biting her lip and looking at him uncertainly.

“It’s okay; it’s not like I asked you to keep this a secret or anything. I’d never dream of making you lie to your parents.” Stiles says and his spine tingles in something like warning. “Did you tell him to meet you at the dorms?” He asks.

“Yeah, they should be here in a half hour.” She says, looking down at her shoes morosely. And Stiles takes a deep breath because he’s pretty sure that her father is already here.

Her phone chimes, a happy little tune that makes Rebecca jump. She goes for her phone and Stiles starts to tidy his desk. He sincerely hopes he’s not about to get unexpected visitors but somehow he knows he will be.

“Oh god.” Rebecca says and she sounds a little sick. He can hear her franticly grabbing her things and turns just as she continues to talk, sounding panicked. “They’re here. Dad must have left early or sped here or something but they’re here and coming. I’m leaving right now; maybe I can catch them before they get here, I’m so sorry Stiles. I didn’t set this up, I swear.” She says, standing in front of his desk with her book bag and purse in hand, pleading with her eyes for him to believe her.

“I know, you’re fine, it’s okay.” He says and knows they’re out of time as the door swings open.

John Stilinski comes in then, looking older than Stiles remembers him, more grey hair and more wrinkles in his face.

“Daddy! I told you to meet me at my dorm.” Rebecca whines, rushing over to hug her father. John hugs her back with one arm, eyes trained on Stiles.

“I know, pumpkin, but I figured why make you walk all the way back to your dorm when I can drive you back there after your class? I dropped off Sasha and your mom, Casey let them in.” He says, smiling at her with gentle fondness and Stiles remembers that he used to look at his mother like that.

“Well, in that case, let’s go. We can be home in time for dinner if we leave now.” Rebecca says, pushing against her father to get him to leave.

“Becca, honey, just… give us a few moments, would ya?” Their father says, looking at Stiles again. He moves around Rebecca, who goes to sit down and looks at them with hope glittering in her eyes. She may not have set this up, but now that it’s happening he can practically see her imagining a Hallmark moment of reunion and tears. And if Stiles is completely honest, he kind of wants that moment too.

“You look good.” Stiles says, tucking his hands in his pockets and leaning against his desk. Casual is good.

“You too.” His dad returns and continues to look over his face, no doubt cataloging all the differences in his face and stance. “Gotta say, didn’t ever peg you for the teacher type: Professor Stilinski. That’s kind of a mouthful.” His father jokes and Stiles snorts.

“Yeah, it would have been. Good thing I took my husband’s name, I’m not a Professor just yet, will be after this semester if all goes well, but even then I’ll be Professor Hale.” Stiles grins even as he says it; it’ll never get old, saying that: Professor Hale.

“Hale.” His father says grimly and the grin falls off Stiles’ face. “You married him?” He chokes out and looks so damn gobsmacked that its almost funny.

“Yes, I did.” Stiles says and there’s a coldness to his voice that he usually reserves for hunters or asshole Alphas.

“Of course you did. Bet he paid for your education too, huh?” His father says and there’s an undercurrent of nastiness there that makes Stiles bristle.

“Some of it, yeah, but I got a lot of scholarships and I had a job too. Shockingly enough, getting kicked out and still managing to graduate high school as salutatorian does wonders for getting scholarships.” Stiles says and Rebecca makes a sound, like she wanted to say something then decided against it.

“And there we go – I bet I got cast as the bad guy for all those essays and stories, didn’t I?” John says with a smirk that looks just plain cruel.

“Typically when a parent abandons and kicks out their child, they get cast in a bad light, yes.” Stiles says back, biting his tongue to keep from saying anything else. And putting it that way, finally saying it out loud makes him so angry he could scream from it – he can’t imagine ever abandoning either of his sons like that.

“I did what I had to. I had Becca and Clara to think about; I had to protect my family, something you didn’t think about at all when you got involved with Hale.” John says coldly and Stiles thinks about asking him to leave, giving a last cutting sentence and then kicking him out but he literally just can’t.

“Fuck you.” Stiles spits out, feeling anger spark in the back of his throat. “I did everything I could to protect you, everything I could think of. You have no idea the things I did to keep you safe and then to keep Clara and Rebecca safe. No idea at all.” Stiles snarls out because he did a lot to keep his family safe back then. He threw other people in the path of the Alpha Pack, delved deeper into magic that Deaton warned him against, and got himself hurt and almost killed trying to keep them safe.

“You almost got Becca killed!” John retorts, face red and angry and Rebecca jumps.

“I did the best I fucking could and she was a long way from mortally wounded. They gave her a mild concussion, dragged her through some glass, and broke her leg. That was nothing compared to what they were going to do to her, but I got her out! And you know what? She’d be dead right now if not for Derek.” Stiles says hotly.

“She wouldn’t have been in that position in the first place if not for you and Hale!” John says back, pointing at him accusingly. It’s so much like his old drunken rants – the ones where Stiles would tell himself over and over again that his father was drunk and didn’t really think Stiles was worthless and a burden – that Stiles flinches back.

“Stop, stop! Just stop!” Rebecca cuts in, sounding furious and choked up. She has tears running down her face but she looks determined and angry. “You can’t just blame that on him, he was hurt too! Don’t you remember?” She demands of John, whirling on him with fire in her voice and aggression in her steps.

“It’s not the same, Becca, you were just a little girl.” John says, gentler with her than he was with Stiles.

“And I remember most of it. I remember they threw him through a window – a window! He threw himself on top of me at one point to protect me! I remember that! Don’t tell me that I don’t know what I’m talking about, I was there you weren’t!” She snarls and she’s definitely a part of this family – Stilinski’s don’t take shit from anyone, including their own.

“Rebecca, just…stop. It’s okay.” Stiles says tiredly. “Look, I have another class soon, so as much as I’d love to have a go at you, I really can’t. You need to leave.” He says firmly and then turns his attention to Rebecca. “It was really nice meeting you this semester. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, even if it’s only for someone to look over your essays.” He says to her.

Rebecca nods and John looks like he’s about to say something but Rebecca literally drags him from the room, a grim expression on her face and tears cooling on her cheeks. He sits down, finally, once they’re both gone and buries his face in his hands.

He’s really, finally, lost his father.

* * *

He gets home to an empty house and a note on the refrigerator that says Elessar and Castiel are staying the night at Boyd, Erica, and Isaac’s and that Derek is just going to the office for a few hours and should be back by nine. (Derek works at an architecture firm. Apparently, when he and Laura had fled to New York after the fire, he got his GED and got a degree. Stiles didn’t know that until they started dating when he was eighteen.)

Stiles crawls into bed at seven and just lays there. He remembers the night he and Rebecca got hurt, how could he not? By that time, Kali had killed two people and five hunters – they’re separated because the hunters didn’t get found by the police, just sent back home – and Ethan and Aiden had mauled a few children, younger then Rebecca had been. The three six year olds had been declared animal attack victims, but the truth…oh God the truth…

And then there had been Peter Hale. Peter, who messed with things he had no knowledge of and chained himself to Lydia in such a way that he was a fool to think he was the one in control of her. Peter, who was working to betray them all to the Alpha Pack and they knew they couldn’t trust him but they needed his knowledge. They still didn’t have Erica and Boyd back – the two beta’s had been beaten and then brainwashed, memories rearranged to make them think Kali was their Alpha and Derek was the enemy. It had been such a mess and Erica and Boyd were used as little more than attack dogs – Isaac and Scott could hardly being themselves to attack them. They were lucky to have Jackson, who didn’t have any such qualms, and Allison who was still half in her own headspace where she could make any wolf that wasn’t Scott into the boogeyman.

And then there was Stiles and Lydia, far from helpless and tumbling so far down the rabbit hole there was never any chance of them escaping wonderland. They learned and challenged each other and with every breath of fire, every inhale of ice, every word of Latin they were tied more and more to each other. They hadn’t known, at the time, just what they were doing. Deaton was only so much help to them and they had to learn things right then, no time for trials and lessons and caution. And one day, Lydia half sang a verse in Latin and across town Stiles hummed the very same verse under his breath, tapping out a beat that wasn’t from his own head.

It was a nightmare, the near constant threat of the Alphas. And John Stilinski will never know the lengths Stiles went to for the sake of protecting their family, never know just how many hours were spent, devoted really, to keeping his sorry ass alive and uninjured.

And the night that Rebecca was taken, John will never know that it was because Stiles had managed to kill Aiden, the sick bastard, and that had been the start of a war that threated to destroy their small town. And it hadn’t been Stiles’ fault; he had protected their house and their cars and Clara’s apartment and Rebecca’s school. A lot of his blood and will had gone into protection wards and they were safe.

Which, of course, is where Peter fucking Hale comes in. Stiles had protected against the Alpha Pack but Peter was a member of the Hale Pack and he was able to crawl through Rebecca’s window and snatch her right out of her room, right under John’s very nose for he and Clara had been downstairs the whole time.

_“Stiles, they have Becca.” Allison says, wide eyed and frantic, clutching at his arms. Stiles feels a little lightheaded and sick. Chris Argent is standing nearby, expression thunderous and Stiles wants to punch him right in the face simply for having the balls to be there._

_“How? I was there for most of the process; Stiles warded the ever loving shit out of everywhere they could grab her from.” Lydia says coolly from behind him and he feels wind prickle at the back of his neck. She’s more agitated then she’s letting on._

_“I haven’t seen Peter in six hours.” Isaac says softly, not moving from where Scott is tangled in a net with two hunters’ guns trained on him. He’s wolfed out, but the growling has stopped. Stiles feels a crack of fire and rage from Lydia, sees red and the flash of scales before Jackson growls and the connection ebbs._

_And of course, the wards wouldn’t hold up against a member of the Hale Pack, fuck he’s a goddamned idiot. Ice roars in his veins and lighting flashes above them, causing a few Hunters to jump and Allison to let go of him abruptly._

_“Where?” He breaths out, angry beyond words._

_“We lost them.” Chris says, striding forward with that cocky swagger of his but he doesn’t get very far before ice whips forward, keeping him away from Stiles and, more importantly, the Hale house behind him. The pistol in Chris’ loose grip freezes abruptly before splintering apart. Chris shouts in anger and Stiles is about to fucking lose it, Lydia not helping at all. (There’s an alarming amount of heat coming from her, he can feel it, and he wonders if she’s lit anything on fire just yet. They’re supposed to be like each other’s anchors, but lately all they seem to do is feed each other’s rage and anger.)_

_“Calm down.” Derek barks out commandingly from nowhere, coming out from the woods, and Stiles breaths out ice in a hiss that sounds remarkably like Jackson did back when he was a murderous lizard. Derek comes up and clamps a hand on the back of his neck and the weight of it is comforting, calming._

_“Keep your witches under control, Hale.” Chris barks out and Allison glares at him while Lydia makes a sound like an enraged cat._

_“They took her to a foreclosed house near the high school. 468 Wicker. They didn’t try to hide their scent or their trail.” Derek says to Stiles, squeezing his neck. “We need a plan.” Derek continues and Stiles shakes himself out of his hold._

_“I have a plan – I’m going to get Becca out of there. Simple, to the point.” Stiles snaps, taking a step back when Derek’s hand twitches, as if it wants to reach for him._

_“Oh yes, that seems like a great way to get you both killed. How are you going to get in? How are you going to get her away from them? How are you going to deal with the trap? You have no real weapons, just a bunch of parlor tricks you and Miss Martin can barely do!” Chris yells at them, moving forward and Allison steps in front of him quickly, stopping his progress. “You will get that girl killed!” He continues, shouting at Stiles and looking so self-righteous that Stiles wants nothing more than to pop him in the mouth._

_He takes a step forward but Lydia’s fingers clamp down on his wrist, iron grip and searing heat. His skin is singing under her touch and he can feel runes flaring to life under his skin. One moment they’re in front of the Hale house and the next there is a tidal wave of sound and a crashing wave of color, rolling together and when he can think again they’re somewhere else._

_“I’ll breathe scales into him.” Lydia says quietly, fire dancing in her hair and down her shoulders. He doesn’t need to ask to know she’s talking about Peter._

_They don’t bother using a window or trying to get in unseen and unheard, just march up and throw the front door open. Ethan rushes them from the darkness and Lydia steps in front of Stiles, eyes alight and fury in her every movement. He gets close enough to almost touch her when he goes up in flames, screaming and howling like a mad thing. Lydia shoves him aside and when they go further in the house Stiles sees Becca, tied to a chair and blindfolded, but obviously still crying._

_“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the witch of the pack, how adorable. You must think you’re hot shit, little girl.” A voice neither of them has heard before sounds and Lydia is thrown into a nearby wall, black mist and what looks like tar twisting around her body, extinguishing her flames. He feels it like a bucket of water over the head and he is running towards Becca before he even realizes it._

_Kali leaps at him from seemingly nowhere, but it’s so dark in the house it’s hard to tell if she had simply been nearby this whole time, in full Alpha form. She looks nothing like Peter did and so much more like he imagines Laura looked – majestic and huge and feral. Her huge mouth snaps closed much too close to his face and they go tumbling to the ground, knocking the chair Becca is in over. Stiles rolls, twisting away from Kali, before the giant brown wolf leaps for him again, claws sinking into his shoulder and across his stomach to keep him on the ground._

_Electricity flares under his skin, rippling from him to Kali in volts strong enough to shoot her away from him and into what sounds – from the crack of her bulk hitting it – to be a table. Becca is sobbing and screaming and Stiles manages to get close enough to rip the blindfold from her eyes. Before he can say anything to her or try to grab her, there are hands grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him up, up, and then throwing him. He hits a window with a shrill crack of glass and what feels like sandpaper all around him and goes down hard, cold tile and glass working together to cut him to ribbons. Becca screams louder and he feels Lydia flare to life, a burst of heat and orange in the back of his mind._

_Kali leaps through the shattered window frame, landing on all fours on top of him, and rears her head down to bite into his shoulder. Her teeth meet ice and not much else and he kicks her off him, rolling onto his feet moments later and blows snow and hail right in her face._

_Becca screams again but this time it doesn’t sound like she’s merely scared. Kali lungs for him and Stiles throws as much electricity as he can at her, sending her down howling in pain and Stiles does not let up. She’s howling and screaming and sounds like an inhuman mix of wolf and woman and Stiles can feel blood running down his face and finally she is still and silent, naked and human with lifeless eyes and vomit and blood running down her chin._

_He doesn’t have much time to reflect on his victory before he feels a great tug and Lydia is shrieking, terrified and enraged. He makes it to the other room and finds Becca, bleeding sluggishly in places and leg twisted in a way that isn’t natural at all, and beyond her is Lydia. And a stunningly beautiful person – at once a woman with flowing hair and a man with intense eyes – is kneeling above her with a hand plunged into Lydia’s chest only not really because there’s not any blood. Fire is licking at both of them and Lydia is near cackling with electricity as well, her hair a mess of tangles and there’s blood on her lips and splattered across her shirt. Stiles is forced to his knees from the next tug and feels ice and magic flowing out of him, down the thread connecting him to Lydia, and then vanishing. Pain blooms down his right side and when he looks, the wound from Aiden’s claws that Lydia and he forced closed is open and gushing blood. Too much blood._

_He looks up and Lydia is looking at him, weak and clawing at her attacker, gasping in pain and there’s blood under her too – probably from the wound the Alpha Aiden was with the night they killed him gave her. They never did get her name, but she tore into Lydia’s back and ruined one of her favorite dresses – the wound had been so deep Stiles thought he might have seen bone. That had taken some werewolf magic and Deaton working with them to close it up._

_They’re going to die._

_At that moment, Erica explodes through the front wall as Allison kicks in the very front door they came in through, arrow flying loose and lodging into the thing that’s sucking their magic out from them. It makes a sound, not quite a scream not quite a roar, that sends him into convolutions and Lydia sobs in agony. Erica rushes it, going down in a tangle of blonde locks and snarling. But it vanishes right underneath her with a last crackle of sound._

_Becca stirs nearby and Stiles manages to pull himself close enough to be in the perfect position to throw himself on top of her when Hunters throw smoke canisters into the house and come in, guns blazing. Which, of course, is when Peter fucking Hale decides to make his appearance and manages to rip Chris Argent’s head right off his shoulders. Allison screams and jumps on Peter, who’s still clutching Chris’ head in his hands with blood dripping down his chin, stabbing at him. Peter reaches up and claws at her, whirling and sending her flying off of him. Hunters shoot, but not all of them shoot at Peter._

_Everything falls into chaos for a few short moments, the Hale Pack united against the Hunters, finally managing to kill them all using fangs and claws. Scott throws himself on Allison and shouts for her to stay down – “I can take a bullet, you can’t!” And Stiles curls Becca under him, protecting her as best he can with a gaping wound in his side and massive blood loss. He can feel his magic attempting to flow back to him but he shoves it at Lydia, remembering about chains and debt and how little Peter really knew about the nature of magic._

_And finally, it’s the Pack against Peter, the way it should have been from the start. Scott gets off of Allison and doesn’t interfere when she completes the circle caging Peter in. Peter, who smiles at them all and opens his mouth, no doubt to say something Machiavellian and cutting._

_“Jackson, get off me.” Lydia’s voice rings out in place of Peter’s and Stiles sends as much power and magic and will as he can to her, seeing spots and feeling his body going cold. “I told you, you pathetic excuse of a man, that if you pulled anything I would destroy you.” She continues and he can see her, gloriously standing, and Jackson is hovering at her elbow._

_There are no words for this, nothing that anyone can see, but Stiles can feel it. Can feel a phantom thread, a twist and a yank and then Lydia is on fire and people are screaming or shouting and Peter lunges for her and Lydia collides with Peter. It’s hard to see through the heat and fire but Stiles knows what’s happening – knows that Lydia is mashing their lips together in a mockery of a kiss and breathing scales into Peter, hollowing him out and eating the wolf inside him. He can feel the lick of the flames even as the world goes dark and cold._

_Peter Hale died in the fire that claimed the rest of Derek’s family. The thing that murdered Laura Hale and Kate Argent and numerous others was not Peter Hale but rather a demon born of rage and fear and pain and sorrow and grief. And that thing was dangerous. And so, Stiles and Lydia looked for a way to make it safe and found that the best way was to make sure it was put on a leash. Of course, a werewolf cannot be tethered, but a Kanima was designed for it._

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice brought him out of his musing and memories. Stiles turned to face him, realizing that the room was much darker then it was when he got home.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re crying.” Derek’s fingers touched his face gently and Stiles was surprised to feel the truth of his husband’s words.

“I was just…saying goodbye to my dad.” Stiles says, sitting up and wiping his face. Derek sits down on his side of the bed, looking at him in concern. “I guess I always thought that if he could just see me now he’d…I don’t know, forgive me or something. Be happy for me.” Stiles continues, smiling at his husband weakly. “Silly, I know.”

“It’s not silly.” Derek says leaning forward to kiss him and Stiles melts into it.

“It’s been a shockingly stressful semester, huh?” Derek murmurs against his lips and Stiles crawls forward, biting at Derek’s mouth and settling on his husband’s lap.

“Why the stopping of the kissing? I was liking that, let’s do more of that.” Stiles says, pushing Derek over. “And yeah, it’s been a little weird but, well, what can you do?” He continues, smiling down at Derek and leaning down.

He’s just glad that he finally got some closure.


End file.
